


Safe & Sound

by Katritam (Scavenge4Dreams)



Series: Mag 7 Continued Universe [5]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Claustrophobia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness, Trapped, WARNING: VAGUE MENTION OF SERIEL RAPSIT?MURDERER AS PLOT DEVICE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22051576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenge4Dreams/pseuds/Katritam
Summary: "Well, if you saw who turned up here earlier, you'd probably think a locked metal box was a good option too. And there definitely ain't no napping happening in here.  I can barely stand up, but can't sit down either. My back's killing me."Nathan bets a lot more than Vin's back is ' killing him,' but he'll get to that when he can put hands on the wonderful pain in the ass.  Instead, he replies, "Oh, don't worry, my afternoon hasn't exactly been a picnic either. Some asshole put a hit out on one of my closest friends, and I didn't know if we'd make it on time. Thought we hadn't for a while."
Relationships: Platonic OT7 Friendship
Series: Mag 7 Continued Universe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/733092
Kudos: 14





	Safe & Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow still alive and kicking in this fandom! Have some Vin angst for my birthday!

He'd eyed the staircase for a lot longer than he'd be willing to admit; contemplating the level of effort and degree of pain the trip to the upper floor would take, vs. the familiarity of his own bed (he'd spent enough time in the small bed in the second top floor at the ranch. Might as well be his.) and the view the rooms small window boasted, of sprawling grass and oak tree-lined horizon.

He was damned sick of the couch.

Grateful.

But goddamn sick of it.

And perfectly capable of getting himself up the damn stairs, bum leg or not. Vin finally decided that he could just as soon tell Chris that should the older man ask, and he leaned his single crutch against the wall at the foot of the stairs to be able to hold the banister properly with his one good hand.

The solid thunk as the crutch promptly fell over was reproaching just by sheer timing, and Vin eyed it for a moment, already hearing Chris's caterwauling about leaving the goddamn thing lying about uselessly, instead of using it like he should be.

He shrugged. What Chris didn't know, because Chris was at work, wouldn't hurt him.

And it wasn't like there were any of the others floating about to tell on him at the earliest opportunity. Seeing as they were all at work as well.

Leaving the cripple home alone to fend for himself.

Vin might have tried (insistently complained, coaxed, bribed, and whined) to convince Christ that he was fine to head into the office as well. That the accident, the incident, the'mishap' had been almost a week ago, and that he was mending mighty quick. (and going more than a little bit stir crazy being kept cooped up in this house. The bottom floor no less!) no matter how grateful he might also be.

Grateful and goddamn sick of it.

His heavy cast-boot made a very satisfying thump as it landed on the lowest step tread, and Vin held tight to the banister rail as he hauled the rest of his weight up to level-

His flank burned as barely held together flesh protested the sharp movement, and Vin paused for a second, taking a breather as he looked up the  _ seemingly endless staircase. _

He peered over his shoulder at the distance already traveled- oh right. One step.

The broken fingers on his good arm throbbed as he wrapped his hand around the banister again, his other carefully cradled against his hip- careful of the bruises hidden below the sagging waistline of his sweatpants.

Chris hadn't exactly been overly confident about leaving him at the ranch on his own today, either. Vin had had to do some Ezra-level reassuring and coaxing to get the leader out the door. 

Not being able to walk up the stairs by himself wasn't exactly the reassurance he'd been going for. (Vin chose to conveniently ignore the fact that Chris had had a minor apocalyptic moment, and Nathan had all but threatened to hogtie him if he tried the  _ front _ steps again before he was off his crutch. And there were only  _ three _ steps off the front porch.)

Chris's last words before he'd left that morning had been 'And for godsakes, don't overdo it; I don't want to have to scrape your hide off the kitchen floor again.'

One time. Once, and Chris would never let him forget it. But the fact remained that if he couldn't make it up these stairs now, he'd be guilty of doing precisely as Chris had said not to- o _ verdoing it _ .

' _ Thunk' _

__ The cast hit the second tread, and Vuin leaned his good forearm on the banister and used it as a crutch to push himself up. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

The sound of a car door slamming dragged his attention away from his struggling body, and he all but died on the spot.

It'd be better that way anyway because if that was Chris, Vin was as good as dead because Chris was going to kill him.

Help him off the staircase and then kill him.

He was slightly disconcerted that he hadn't heard the vehicle approach along the gravel driveway, but shrugged it off (the rest of his body was doing it's utmost to betray him, why not his trusty ears as well?). He swiveled with painstaking care, so he was facing downward, the two strep drop falling away like Mount Everest below him.

Goddamn it.

Bad arm, with its mangled hand, casted wrist and previously-dislocated shoulder now on the banister side, Vin used the wall for what balance he could. He bent to peer around the doorframe into the kitchen, through the window on the rooms far side. He was hoping it might be a temporary reprieve (JD or Ezra), or good-natured clucking (Josiah or Buck).

At a pinch, he'd even deal with the mother hen from hell, Chris.

Nathan, though? Vin was going to pretend to faint to drum up sympathy instead of scathing commentary on his apparent lack of all things common sense. 

Hell, he might just faint for real.

\-----

The vehicle, black, nondescript with no plates, set his skin a-prickle.

It wasn't Chris or Nathan- it wasn't any of his team.

The guns in the hands of the black-clad men that stepped from the vehicle ruined whatever monetary relief Vin might have felt.

Hell.

* * *

"We've picked up some boys in blue, Chris-" Buck commented levelly from the driver's seat, although the way his knuckles were clenched white around the steering wheel belied his calm.

Chris glanced in his side-view mirror, picking up flashing red and blue, and now able to hear the whine of sirens below the roar of blood in his ears. Voice clipped, he said, "JD, deal with that. Don't slow down, Buck."

JD's soft "On it, boss" blended with Buck's "Wasn't planning on it," and Chris tuned out JD's ensuring call to inform the local PD of the reason for their devilish speed as they speed along the highway that led out of the city, towards Chris's ranch.

Through the earpiece nestled in Chris's left ear, Ezra reported, "No luck yet, Chris- I can't identify the client, although I've only had an indication of two more individuals or corporations engaging the contract."

"Well, that's something to be thankful for, at least?" Josiah offered, trying to foster the steady calm he knew they'd need in the coming confrontation.

Chris wasn't in the fostering mood, "What's it matter how many of them there might be when one of them is the damn Herring Twins? Goddamn butchers." 

Nathan, shuffling through the hastily grabbed first aide kit spoke blithely, "Frankly I'm surprised there's not more-"

Chris's jaw tightened warningly, and Buck headed off the explosion, "Nate didn't mean it like that, it's just confusing-"

"Not so confusing," Ezra's tinny voice explained, "Our Mr. Tannah is considered an extremely high danger-level target. I'm quite afraid that the sheer number of failed attempts in the past has contributed to his extremely poor suitability as a contract assassination target. "

"Vin's hard to kill." Buck translated needlessly, and sniggered at the ungodly truth of the statement, despite the utter inappropriateness of the timing.

Chris, focus set intently on the horizon stretching out before him, didn't deign to answer, but JD voiced what the leader was no doubt thinking, "Yeah, but usually Vin doesn't have the remnants of a concussion, three broken bones, 40 odd stitches, and both hands out of commission."

"Don't forget the deep tissue bruising, dislocated shoulder, dizziness, and one eye out of focus," Nathan added unhappily, "I doubt he'd come out on top of a tousle with his bedsheets at the moment-"

"Enough!" Chris growled, "Ezra, keep me informed, and for god's sake, find the client!"

Josiah's voice rumbled comfortingly from the back seat, his large hand settling on Chris's shoulder- "It's still an active contract, brother- "

'Active,' as in not yet filled. Vin wasn't dead yet.

* * *

The Ram rolled along the relatively unused, and therefore unknown, back access road that pulled them up hidden from view behind the Barn. Running as quietly as possible, the passengers bearing the torturously slow approach with ill grace and tension one could cut with a knife.

The vehicle eased to a silent stop, and doors opened without a breath of sound, propped open with specially designed levers built into the seating.

Chris gestured, twice to the left, once to the right and once straight ahead. Without a word, the five men split into groups, JD and Nathan moving to the left of the sheltering building, Buck and Josiah to the right.

Gun drawn, Chris entered through the rear door of the Barn.

Quiet, beyond the occasional nicker of horses, seeming unbothered and settled, and Chris felt his guard relax just slightly. The horses would tell if a stranger was within range. No one was in the Barn.

He confirmed as much when he exited into the circle yard at the front of the building, using the small side door near the tack room rather than the large double barn doors. A glance around the open space at the front of the house revealed nothing out of place or unexpected. No odd vehicles or apparent signs of disturbance.

Meeting up with his men from both directions simultaneously, Chris gestured towards the house.

They entered on hushed feet, guns leading their cautious approach.

Chris knew from his first step through the front door that something was amiss.

* * *

The house was empty. 

"They took him." Chris leaned heavily against the dining table, refusing to look around the house any more, almost afraid of what he might see. What it might tell him.

Buck shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to reason, "We don't know that, Chris-"

His face and voice didn't support his words.

The house was empty, but there had clearly been a struggle-

The den was in disarray, Vin's belongings and makeshift couch nest destroyed. The furniture was obviously askew.

And there was blood.

"Why- " JD cleared his throat, "Why would they take him, though? It doesn't make sense. The contract said dead. Video evidence of decapitat- decap-" he trailed off, unable to say the word, shortcutting to, "Why wouldn't they just follow the contract?"

Chris had no sure answer but really didn't like the ones he could fathom from the darkest parts of his soul.

"Maybe he got away?" Josiah ventured, hopefully, "It's Vin- Vin always seems to find a way to-"

"In his state? He couldn't have made it more than half a dozen steps at speed." Nathan scoffed his denial and devastation warring, allowing anger to take the reigns.

"The horses?! Or maybe he's hiding?! Vin's great at hiding! Remember that time he-" JD, always quick to latch onto optimism leaped into the hopeful suggestions.

"Mr. Larabee! Our department just successfully dissolved the contract 19 minutes ago...I apologize for the delay in notifying you, I was awaiting confirmation. It was listed as active until the last seconds. I have left the office and am on my way to your-" Ezra's voice suddenly chirped from the previously silent earpieces.

Chris stilled, "That's why. That's- " He slumped to a seat at the table, head dropping into his hands, "The herring brothers. They've got him. He's not here anywhere, couldn't go anywhere, they were here...they took him."

"But the contract-" JD questioned with confusion, "Why would they-"

Chris's face was pasty white, almost green at the edges, and he was physically shaking, trembling visibly where he sat. The words ran garbled from his lips as his mind pieced together the horror situation as it presented itself to him- "They're in the middle of completing the contract. There's blood! And a struggle; he put up a fight- The contract is canceled- in time. But- But they already have him. He's seen them, they've attempted to kill him, a federal agent. They can't just let him go."

"What, Chris? This doesn't- why wouldn't they _ just kill him _ ?" Buck asks, deeply disturbed at the sudden pallor of Chris's skin and the slightly crazed look to his eyes.

Chris shakes his head, almost speechless, his throat working as he tries to explain, "They're the _ herring brothers. They- all their victims- _ " He gags, looking physically ill, swallowing compulsively as he breathes shallowly through his nose.

Nathan is the first to click.

Waxen on Chris is unsightly; waxen on Nathan is terrifying, the blood sweeping from his face with an alarming wash of paleness, " _ Chris...Chris- you can't think? You can't mean- Why would they!? No. No, not Vin. They're- they're- They like blonde women. Women!  _ "

Buck has a hand over his mouth, and Josiah looks to be uttering words of faith beneath his breath.

JD's face is still confused, perplexed.

And like so often when confused or perplexed, JD turned to Ezra, asking through his communicator quietly, "Ez? Ez, what- what are they talking about?"

Silence, for the longest beat, answers him, and then the undercover operative replies, voice wooden, "The Herring brothers, wanted for, in addition to numerous suspected contract assassination cases, at least five known charges of serial rape, torture, murder and desecration of a corpse."

JD turned and threw up in the sink.

* * *

It was nearly unfathomable to him.

No. It  _ was _ unfathomable to him.

Ezra's words hung hollow and meaningless in his mind, JD refusing to revisit them, his stomach still churning with terrible rage and pain.

How could this be happening? How could this-

"Women? Vin's not a woman-" he muttered, scrambling for any shred of conflicting proof. 

"Not confirmed," Buck choked, "They make trophies of long blonde hair. Only female DNA matched the- the  _ scalps _ ... found at their last known location, but it's never been confirmed that it's only women-"

JD stared out the window, at the open yard, leading to the Barn, staring at nothing, thinking nothing-

It was the pattern that caught his attention.

* * *

Chris was in such a state of despairing shock that JD's exclaiming wildly and scrambling for the front door, disappearing with thudding footsteps onto the front porch barely registered.

It was only that the wide-open front door was serendipitously positioned directly across from Chris's seated position that allowed him to watch the youngers strange scuttle down the steps. The boy all but throwing himself into the much-trekked dirt in front of the verandah.

Thirty seconds of JD's intent study of the ground, of gentle fingertips tracing shape and eyes glancing every which way, testing, and Chris instantly saw someone else in the movement.

The youngster's teacher.

Vin.

This was just how Vin looked when he tracked.

Chris rose, rounded the table on autopilot, stepped outside, and downed the steps.

"JD?" Josiah questioned, and Chris realized that the other four were at his sides.

JD didn't so much as glance up, gaze intent on the ground as he sidled a shuffling step forward, hands sizing up what to Chris were random indecipherable scuffs in the dirt.

He answered though, instinctively replying to Chris's questioning tone. "This is barefoot- maybe a sock, it's not overly defined, and the toes are a bit oddly shaped. Tight. But this- " he gestured to more dirt, "This is something bulky and flat, dropping here, dragging lightly here and lifting, almost skipping across the ground to here-"

"Vin's cast?" Buck asked, although already sure that's what JD was describing.

Ezra's voice called in Chris's ear, demanding to know what was happening, and he vaguely noted Josiah explaining the findings to the traveling southerner as they unfolded.

JD nodded, following a pattern only he could decipher another meter or so across the ground, "It' so distinctive. Heavy. Like he's moving-"

"Injured. He's walking like he's injured." Nathan added, wringing his hands with undisguised nervous anticipation and worry. "He was walking. If he was walking-"

"He was running-" JD amended, "Too far apart and to uneven to be measured steps. And- uh, panicked. Maybe. Frenzied."

Teo of the least likely words to be attributed to Vin Tanner, in almost any circumstance.

JD stilled. Breathed in a hissing breath, reaching out tentatively, touching the ground, and drawing his hand to his face. He rolled his fingers, sniffing.

"Blood."

Chris shifted impatiently.  _ Blood. Vin had been hurt.  _ Well, actively bleeding.

But maybe not taken. By some miracle.

JD's next movement followed the same direction, and Chris looked up to see the door to the Barn, looming only feet away. 

The same one he'd come through earlier.

Had Vin made it to the other side of the Barn? Into the denser scrubland? Somehow struggled, unfollowed, undetected-

He started sharply, asking, "JD, can you tell if he was followed?"

JD's head snapped up, eyes widening as he stared at Chris for a second, before dropping urgently back to the ground. Furiously backtracking his path.

Chris could already tell the answer from how suddenly flustered the younger became, eyes darting over the ground desperately as if opening them wider would allow him to pick up some detail he'd missed.

Eventually, he looked up to meet Chris's eyes, shaking his head, "No. I'd like to say no. I think he wasn't, but we've all walked across here now, and I just. I just can't tell Chris. I'm sorry. I'm no Vin. I'm Sorry-"

Buck stepped in before Chris has the chance, but he took the words right from Chris's mouth, so he let it me, listening as his oldest friend reassured, "Nothing to be sorry for, you're doing great Kid. Vin's gonna be impressed. Just keep doing your best. Where did Vin get to Next? Through the Barn?"

But even with the light of torches Chris had scrambled to find on the tack room, JD lost Vin's tracks just inside the Barn, between the gun safe and the sacks of grain and horse feed.

* * *

They'd scoured the Barn. 

Josiah had moved every sack of feed, even in them, despite most being too small or too full to fit a full-grown Vin Tanner.

Nathan had climbed to the loft despite everyone's surety that Vin couldn't have made the climb with his injuries. Nathan had snorted, muttered something unsavory about stubborn pigheaded impossible Texans, and looked anyway.

JD had checked every nook of the tack room, wondering if Vin had fallen unconscious, hidden beneath a saddle blanket or behind a shelf unit.

Buck had checked every stable, behind every horse, and under every half-eaten pile of hay. He'd promised Peso as many sugar cubes as he wanted, no matter what his master might say if only the horse would just point out where said master had gone. Peso had nothing to say.

Chris was fighting, falling back on their original theory.

Ezra arrived at the ranch in a screech of gravel, stone chips marring the Jags immaculate paintworks, and dust flowing freely into the interior as he skidded to a halt, tires spinning. The door was thrown open and left that way as Ezra sprinted to the Barn- "Is he, have you found him?"

The lack of Texan in view was telling enough, and Ezra took a deep breath and did what he rarely, if ever did, fall back on sheer stupid bloody optimism.

"Very well, I've organized a bolo on the Herrings and a roadblock on every road connected to this one all the way back to the city proper. The rollout should be complete or very near to it as we speak. I've requested personnel for a proper grid search of the property and surrounding areas, so let's get to it shall we-" he turned on his heel, raising his hands to cup his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs, "VIN?! VINCENT TANNER?!"

" _ About godamn time _ !" Vin's voice called back, muffled and tinny, but very much Vin.

Ezra blinked at the gaping fish his teammates had turned into, and deadpanned, "Right. Well. I'll just cancel all that, shall I?"

Chris realized that no one had thought to simply call Vin's name.

* * *

Like some weird bastardized blend of Marco-polo and hotter/colder, the six men followed Vin's voice, using the volume and direction to track him all the way to  _ exactly where JD had lost the trail. _

Between the gun safe and horse feed.

The ancient homemade steel gun safe that had been in Chris's family since before his grandaddy's time, with a few upgrades and reinforcements over the many years turning it into an intimidatingly large chunk of very secure, an all-but-impenetrable one-man safe haven.

"Vin?" Chris called, and when there was no reply, he rapped sharply on the flat metal door, almost disbelievingly.

"Don't- don't do that! That's really really goddamn loud!" came the muted, yet very clearly snarled reply. Chris broke down into loud gasping,  _ nigh sobbing _ laughter, leaning forward against the gun safe, almost hugging it.

"I can hear you, you asshole. It's not funny! Get me the hell out of this fucking coffin!" came the screeched reply, and Chris laughed harder, actual tears of relief escaping, even as he stood straight, speaking through sniggers.

"JD, run and fetch the Key, it's hanging by the house door. " turning back to the safe, he spoke, "Not laughing at you Vin, not really- just- just damn glad to hear your voice."

"You- you gotta speak up Chris- it's real muffled in here- cain't hardly hear you-" Vin's reply came. 

Chris repeated himself at a low shout, "Not laughing, just happy to hear your voice-"

"Although, you've got to admit-" Buck interjected loudly, only to be cut off by Vin's muffled "Shut the hell up Bucklin."

Buck laughed, finally relaxing slightly as they heard the house door slam. As JD entered, able to picture the youngest's desperate eager scrabble for the key that would save their friend.

Vin replied to Chris, "Yours to, cowboy, yours too. You have no idea...any chance you might be able to get me out of here now, though? It's a mite- dark. " his voice audibly dipped at the end, even muffled as it was. 

Chris was sure he'd been about to say something other than dark. The dark wasn't something that bothered his friend.

Small spaces, on the other hand...

"Yeah, I've got JD getting the key. Not much longer now." Chris reassured.

Silence rested in the beat after Chris's words, and then Vin asked, some shaky quality breaking free within his voice, "...You don't happen to mean the keys hanging up beside the front door?" 

Chris glanced at Buck, something sinking in the pit of his stomach, opening his mouth just as JD shot back into the Barn, hands-on knees panting slightly through his words, "No keys by the door, Chris. Maybe you put them somewhere else?"

Chris stilled, a sense of foreboding rising up in his stomach. Voice deliberately flat and unconcerned, he asked, "Vin Tanner, you wouldn't happen to have the keys from beside the front door, would you?"

Vin's answer was a slightly hysterical laugh, followed by, "I thought one of them might start the old motorbike behind the Barn. Wasn't gonna make it that far. Saw the gunsafe open. Pretty sure I'd fit."

"Well, you were obviously right, champ," Buck chimed in, "you fit, and you're safe from the assholes hunting you. Good job. Don't worry, we'll get you out." Buck called loudly when Chris didn't look able to reply.

Behind him, Nathan turned to Chris, and in a much, much quieter voice hissed, "Please, please tell me you've got a spare key."

Chris look offended and huffed, although his eyes were skittish as he replied, equally quietly, "Yes, of course. " He swallowed, ""In my desk. At work."

Nearly an hour away, taking into consideration the hour and subsequent traffic.

Shit.

"All good, Vin, we're getting the spare key- won't be too long!" Buck called, elbowing Chris in the side until he added, "Yup, just a bit longer."

"You're a godamn coward and a pisspoor lier Chris Larabee! There is no spare, is there?!" Vin bit back through the metal a few breaths later, and JD's jaw dropped at the utter disrespect.

Chris blustered, "Hey! I do have a spare!"

"Then it's in town or something!" Vin shot back, and Chris didn't reply.

The pitch of Vin's voice rose, pace quickening as he repeated, "Fuck! It's all the way in town?! Chris, I can't spend another hour in here! I can't! I've already been in here for ages, and it's really dark, and I goddamn need to pee, and I think my side's- Chris, you gotta get me out of here- I need to get out! Chris! Chris? Chris, are you there?! Where'd you-" 

Vin was talking himself right into panicked babbling. Chris guiltily chewed his thumb and debated with himself until Nathan punched him in the shoulder, ordering, "Damn it, talk to him or get out of the way so I can!"

"Nate! That you, Nate!?" Vin called, muffled knocking noses sounded as Vin rapped on the inside of the safe in some form of excited hello.

Nathan chuckled, elbowing Chris and mouthing 'get this thing open!' before replying loudly, "Yeah, Vin, it's me. What the hell are you doing in there? Who just sees an open metal box and thinks it'll be a good place to have a nap?"

Vin sounded a lot calmer when he replied, "Well, if you saw who turned up here earlier, you'd probably think a locked metal box was a good option too. And there definitely ain't no napping happening in here. I can barely stand up, but can't sit down either. My back's killing me."

Nathan bets a lot more than Vin's back is ' killing him,' but he'll get to that when he can put hands on the wonderful pain in the ass. Instead, he replies, "Oh, don't worry, my afternoon hasn't exactly been a picnic either. Some asshole put a hit out on one of my closest friends, and I didn't know if we'd make it on time. Thought we hadn't for a while."

Vin's reply is softer, but not in volume, "Sounds rough. Sorry about that. We? You all out there?"

JD jumped in, voice loud and instantly recognizable, even without the pointed identification, "Hey Vin, it's me, JD! We're all here! Guess what?" he asked, although he didn't wait for an answer, plowing on, "I tracked you out here! Your cast makes really distinctive marks!" 

"Well done, JD! I knew you'd pick it up easily- good job, and thank you!" the trapped man called, and JD preened a little, but his developing maturity showed when he replied, "Obviously I had the best teacher!"

Vin didn't reply, and after several seconds JD added, "Vin? Did you hear me? Am I loud enough?"

There was still no reply, and Nathan frowned, "Vin? You there?"

"Where else would I go?" came the reply, aiming for amusement but falling flat, reddy and thin, with just a tinge of panic. Before Nathan could reply, Vin continued, "How- how much air do you think one of these holds? I'm just- My chest hurts a bit, and I'm getting a bit lightheaded?"

Nathan felt his heart stop.

"Vin? Can you hear me? I promise that it's not airtight. I can see a vent at the back-" Josiah answered over him, choice a loud rumbling of comfort and surety, and Nathan relaxed again. Thank Christ.

"Then why is my chest tight? And I'm getting a bit dizzy?" Vin questioned, and Nathan was ready with his reply, "Probably just shock Vin, and you missed your last dose of meds. We'll have you out in a minute, promise-"

Josiah pushed JD forward, "JD, tell Vin about when Ezra arrived, that'll distract him."

JD started to laugh, and dutifully launched into the tale. Nathan chuckled along, only startling slightly when Josiah caught his arm and drew him several steps away, the profiler pitching his booming voice abnormally low.

"It's airtight."

* * *

Josiah quickly explained away the falsehood by not wanting to panic Vin into rapidly breathing through whatever remaining air supply he had. He and Nathan hurried from the Barn, looking to where Chris was on his phone just outside the barn doors. 

The leader was gesturing wildly and obviously speaking quite adamantly to whoever was on the other end of the line.

He hung up angrily just as Nathan and Josiah reached him, forstalling what he assumed was their desire for an update with, "Buck's gone to get the key. I'm trying to get someone to meet him with it on the way, so it's faster, but can't get anyone from the office."

Nathan shook his head, frantically, "There's no time. The damn thing's airtight. He'll suffocate before Buck gets back. We need to get him out  _ now _ ."

Chris blanched, throwing his phone to the ground with a frustrated yell as he tore at his hair figuratively, "I don't have a torch or anything capable of cutting the metal-"

"Get me a crowbar," Josiah demanded, rolling his shoulders and moving towards the Barn with steely determination.

Chris looked skyward, voice helpless as he spoke, "Josiah, it's- it's too strong. The damn thing is reinforced steel-"

"Get. Me. A. Crowbar." Josiah ordered flatly, failure not an option in his mind, impossible not a possibility.

Chris fetched the longest crowbar from the tack room, and as he walked towards the gun safe, where Josiah and Nathan, tall, fit, and determined stood waiting, he had a moment of hope.

* * *

They broke the crowbar four minutes in, snapping it clean in two.

"What the hell was that!? What are you doing?" Vin yelled, pounding on the door in the wake of the loud snap echoing through the Barn, the grating scrape of metal on metal gone as suddenly as it had started.

"Crowbar," JD supplied, "Or what's left of it, now, I guess."

"Chris?" Vin's voice was very quiet as if he was barely speaking above his average pitch, but of course, Chris heard anyway.

"Yeah, cowboy?" he replied, "trying to keep the worry from his voice, although, how successfully he didn't know. 

Vin replied, "I was trying to go upstairs today when the two assholes arrived. Being a pigheaded Texan fool with the self-preservation of a mayfly saved my life. Just thought you ought to know." 

Chris snorted, feeling the wave of hopelessness rise within him, "You're also telling me now, while I can't be pissed about it. "

Vin laughed breathily, "Got it in one."

"Got news for you, cowboy," Chris replied, "Nathan's here too, and he ain't looking too impressed."

Chris wasn't sure if he heard or imagined the muttered 'shit,' but the sentiment stood.

"I'll be pissed when we get you out" Nathan decided, "Until then you can just stew in your own bed of torment- "

"You'll take care of Nettie? If- " Vin suddenly asked, voice cracking slightly. 

Chris ground his teeth, replying, "You can take care of that crotchety old woman yourself." he ordered, "You're welcome to each other!"

"True enough, that" Vin agreed, but his voice was plaintive, "Please? Chris- "

JD ran from the Barn, dashing tears from his face. Chris vaguely wished Buck was there but didn't have time for thought beyond that, focusing on Vin, "Of course, you fool- we'll always take care of both of you. We take care of our own."

"Was right proud to be one o' yours, cowboy-" Vin's voice faded slightly, and Chris swallowed thickly.

He knocked harshly on the metal, "Don't do this to me! Vin! Just - just hold on-"

"Get out of mah way!" Ezra demanded, shouldering his way between Nathan and Josiah, and pushing Chris bodily aside. "Mistah, Tannah!? Mista- Vin?! Vin?!"

"Ez?" the reply when it finally came was barely audible, but Ezra sighed with relief. His hands became carefully controlled twitches of movement as he slotted the custom, freshly homemade gun-safe pick into the lock. His tongue escaped the corner of his mouth as he muttered, "Come on, come one, come on - open. Open! OPEN!"

The lock clicked, and Ezra all but sawed on the handle, throwing the safe door open-

Vin spilled out, skin pale, but flushed red across his cheekbones, he flopped bonelessly into Ezra's arms. Breathing deeply, gulping fresh air as he looped his arms around Ezra's shoulders as best he could while hindered by the cast and stitching.

Behind him, there was more than one muttered, "Thank god- "

"Just Ezra will do, but I appreciate the sentiment. Mr Tannah, having saved your life, I do believe you now owe me some form of boone." Ezra quipped, returning the hug.

"Anything you want Ez, hell, have my firstborn," Vin replied sincerely.

"As that hellion, you call a horse is not what I'd call a boone in any life, I'm afraid I shall have to settle for your friendship and call myself rich, I should think, " the southerner answered.

Chris stepped closer, squeezing the hand Vin reached up, "Gave us a hell of a fright, cowboy. Let's not repeat that if we can help it."

"Can't say that I enjoyed it much myself, wouldn't recommend it." Vin agreed and then turned towards the movement to his left.

He cleared his throat warily, asking "Say, Ez, does that life-saving business extend to pissed of medics?"

Ezra beat a hasty retreat, tuning Vin over to Nathan's tender mercies with a resounding, "While I would attempt to safeguard you from all manner of dangers and demons, I don't find it worth my life, Mistah Tannah.

* * *

Epilogue.

"Well, Vin- at least you can say that you found a  _ safe  _ place to hide."


End file.
